


You find shelter somewhere in me

by okaystop



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-01 19:15:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20376934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaystop/pseuds/okaystop
Summary: Tommy barely blinked. He took a step toward Lovett, hands at his sides, damp sweat towel over his shoulder. "Why don't you just ask for that? Couldn't you just put it in your grindr bio?""No, Tommy, as an alpha, I am not going to put 'likes to be taken care of' in my grindr bio, god," Lovett barked. He shook his head, muttered, "Unbelievable."





	You find shelter somewhere in me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kenopsia (indie)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indie/gifts).
  * Inspired by [riches and wonders](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15280005) by [kenopsia (indie)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indie/pseuds/kenopsia). 

> REMIX of [riches & wonders](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15280005) by **kenopsia (indie)**.
> 
> I enjoyed so much taking your fic and giving it a remix. I hope you like what I've come up with!
> 
> Title is from the mountain goats' song riches and wonders, the same song the original fic took its title from.
> 
> A huge amount of thanks to two people in particular. First to my incredible beta [redacted] for every suggestion, comment, and question that made this so much better with every read. And to [redacted] for their willingness and excitement to chat all things ABO with me and offer me a great list of ABO fics for inspiration and teaching. This fic wouldn't be what it is without either of you. [Names to be added after reveals.]
> 
> -

Lovett slouched off the elevator and turned the corner to walk down the long hallway to Tommy's corner apartment, hands shoved into the pockets of his maroon jeans. He came to a halt a few feet away from Tommy's closed door, chin up, sniffing. A familiar scent hung in the air, coated Lovett's nose and lips and made him step back like he'd been pushed. "What the fuck -?" 

_Tommy._

His scent was thick, more pungent than Lovett could remember in recent years. The last time it overwhelmed Lovett was before they lived together in D.C., back when Tommy was still dating Katie and her heat affected Tommy and got everything all out of whack. Lovett remembered how Tommy had smelled, salt-thick like ocean air, dusty like the remnants of a campfire, fresh like clean linens. It took days for the scent to leave Lovett's pores. He'll never forget it.

Lovett squeezed his phone out of his front pocket and checked it for new messages. His thumb hovered over his last text with Tommy. He should check in, he thought. He should, at the very least, ask Tommy if he wants Lovett to find other accommodations for the night. He might have assumed Lovett wouldn't be coming back to the apartment at all, if he'd pulled well, spent the night with whatever guy he picked up at the bar. It was the polite thing to do, he thought, to text Tommy from the hallway instead of using the spare key to let himself in.

But he waited a moment too long because his feet shuffled forward on their own accord and somehow the spare key ended up in his hand and then he was unlocking and opening the door. He stepped in, nearly bowled over by a wall of Tommy's scent, and had to lean against the open door for support. 

Tommy was just running on his treadmill.

"What are you doing?" Lovett asked, hoping his voice wasn't as noticeably shaky as it felt. Tommy had clearly been at it a while, running at a steady clip, his green crewneck damp and clinging, wet along the neck and under the armpits. Lovett couldn't look away.

Tommy reached out and hit the down arrow until he slowed to a jog, but he didn't stop. "Trying to clear my head. Are you - okay? You look a little -" He made a wavering gesture without breaking his stride.

"I could smell you halfway down the hall," Lovett blurted out.

Tommy hit the console again until the treadmill stopped. He blinked then reached for a towel and wiped at his face. He looked at Lovett with an unreadable expression before he stepped down off the treadmill and picked up a bottle of water from the kitchen counter. "That doesn't make any sense." He uncapped the bottle and drank it, quick swallows with his head back, neck exposed.

Lovett closed the door and slumped against it. He couldn't take his eyes off of Tommy. He didn't want to stand here and admit to Tommy that he could pick up his scent, has been able to for years, but here they were. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. "Yeah, well, fuck if I know."

Tommy wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Lovett," he said. Tommy moved across the living room, closer to him. Lovett could never be in the same place as him and not be very aware of exactly where Tommy was and what he was doing. He used to think that feeling would fade, that eventually the hairs on the back of his neck would stop rising, but after living together, it only intensified. Especially after Tommy's scent imprinted itself on Lovett.

"How was your date?" Tommy asked calmly.

Lovett felt anything but calm. His heart raced, his nostrils flared. Tommy was very sweaty, and Lovett wished desperately that he could muster up some disgust. Unfortunately, it was such the opposite that Lovett felt his thighs quake, his stomach swoop, and his dick twitch inside his tight jeans. "It's - it was fine, whatever. I'm just not built for hookups. Not everyone is." 

"Did you - not, like, pull?" Tommy scratched the side of his head.

"What? Of course I pulled," Lovett sputtered, gesturing at himself, at how fucking good he looked in his colorful jeans, the fact that his t-shirt was snug in all the right places, the closely shaven sides of his head mopped with curls. "Or I definitely could have, look at me." He pressed a fist to his hip, struck a pose. "Number one, I'm gay and visiting San Francisco, and two, I'm an alpha who is damn good in bed, everyone I've fucked says so."

Dynamics wasn't really a topic of conversation that came up frequently between them, at least, not in, like, a decade, since before they all settled into knowing one another, living together or across the street from each other, whatever. It wasn't really relevant anymore. Sure, Lovett was an alpha but not in any stereotypical way, certainly not in any way that impacted the others. (At least, not since Emily came into Jon's life, but that's a story for a different time.) And Tommy was a beta, just floating through life without having to deal with any of the complications of other people's dynamics. Or so Lovett continued to tell himself; he's never been able to explain why Tommy's scent lingered around him like a dust cloud.

Tommy looked him over, slowly, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. Despite having just told Tommy to do so, Lovett wanted him to stop immediately. "So why aren't you built for hookups?"

"Because, Thomas, as an alpha, there are things that are just a little awkward to ask for," Lovett said dryly. 

Tommy looked amused and shook his head. "Like what?"

Lovett huffed, eyes wild, and pushed a hand back through his hair. "Fuck, when did you get so -"

"So what?" Tommy interrupted. 

God, he was so overwhelming. At least with Lovett's focus on Tommy talking, he'd mostly been able to stamp out his scent permeating the air. He'd forgotten how - _how stereotypically alpha-like_ Tommy was, at times. Lovett hated the thought, hated it because he knew it was the cause for so many of Tommy's past break-ups. He also hated how it made him, _an actual alpha_, feel. For all his hang-ups on biology, he was at least supposed to know where he stood. With Tommy, all Lovett felt was confused. But also a lot turned on in ways that would only make sense if Tommy were an omega. And also like he wanted to curl up with Tommy and let him take care of Lovett, not the other way around. Not the way it was supposed to be.

Lovett rolled his eyes to the ceiling, anything to move his gaze away from Tommy's earnest, concerned face. "I regret opening this conversation," he said.

"What aren't you getting?" Tommy's voice dropped down, low and rough.

Lovett's mouth went dry. His nose filled, Tommy's scent coating the back of his throat. He swallowed it down until he could practically feel Tommy inside of him. "Never mind," he said quickly, even knowing that wasn't an option. Tommy was a pusher; he wouldn't let this go. "Just - you know - it's bullshit, these biological divisions or whatever, these little boxes we're all put into just because of the way we were born," he continued on. "I don't - I'm not - sometimes I just -" This was already more than he wanted to admit, had ever admitted, to anyone. "Sometimes I just want to be taken care of, too."

Tommy barely blinked. He took a step toward Lovett, hands at his sides, damp sweat towel over his shoulder. "Why don't you just ask for that? Couldn't you just put it in your grindr bio?"

"No, Tommy, as an alpha, I am not going to put 'likes to be taken care of' in my grindr bio, god," Lovett barked. He shook his head, muttered, "Unbelievable."

"Lovett," Tommy said. He reached out, his long fingers circling Lovett's wrist. He poked the tip of his tongue out through his lips and tilted his head to look at Lovett. Between his sweat-damp hair and body and that coy look on his face, Tommy was the very picture of post-coital. Lovett's chest tightened, and he felt himself itch to reach out for Tommy, to grab him. "That was incredible. You were incredible. I had a great time."

Lovett couldn't hear anything but the sound of his heart thumping around in his chest. He could barely breathe. "This is fucked up," he said.

But Tommy continued on, his gaze steady, blue eyes dark and big. "And I just wanted to know if you could do one more thing with me."

This was actually happening, and Lovett squirmed, exactly like he needed to be anywhere else but here. Desperately. "What's that?" he asked, the words out in a rush of rough breath.

"Would you just," Tommy began, his thumb rubbing the inside of Lovett's wrist, against the mild blue vein then up to the heel of Lovett's palm and back down again. He pressed the tip of his finger into the pulse point there. The fingers of Lovett's hand twitched as he fought the urge to close his hand around Tommy's. "Touch me, for a few minutes?"

There was no time in Lovett's life before this moment that he could remember his brain just completely turning off, not even the few times he came close to believing he'd found his compatible omega. Why was it happening with Tommy? He managed, somehow, to snatch his hand away from Tommy, blinking himself back to sanity. "Okay, we get it, you're attractive and a beta so you can ask for whatever and no one's going to judge you. Honestly," he said to an invisible audience, "you see this guy?"

Tommy wasn't laughing. "Apparently not," he said. He looked a little wounded, ducking his head away from Lovett's sharp gaze and rubbing the back of his neck with his sweaty towel again.

"Come off it," Lovett said. He'd spent years putting his attraction to Tommy in a very specific box, separating himself from it because it didn't work for many reasons, reasons both biological and emotional that Lovett had recounted over and over again in all the years he's known Tommy. It felt - and Lovett knew this couldn't be true but he didn't really know what else was happening here - like Tommy was mocking him for wanting. Mocking him for confessing that he wasn't exactly as much of an alpha as biology dictated. "Don't be ridiculous, you don't want that."

A flash of something passed across Tommy's face and his jaw twitched, but when he spoke, it was even, shallow. "You're right about one thing, we all get slotted into our dynamic's box, and apparently only omegas are allowed to ask to be taken care of. In fact, it's a necessity, right? Alphas definitely can't and even a beta - what? - it's just assumed we're mild and mainstream all the time? Neither the dominant one or the submissive one? Bet we have really vanilla sex all the time, too. Can't even ask an alpha for his touch."

Lovett gaped at him and Tommy continued on, turning away from him. "I'm sorry you didn't get what you wanted tonight, but you don't have to be a dick about it."

The infuriating thing was, Tommy was right. For all the ways that Lovett bucked stereotypes and hated the stigma of being the aggressor, or the dominant one, or whatever else came with being an alpha, he sure ascribed to them in others. He stared at Tommy, at the blush blooming across his nose and cheekbones, whether from shame or anger, Lovett wasn't sure. At the way his sweaty t-shirt pulled across his shoulders, at the line of his throat as he paused to finish off his bottle of water. It wasn't just the idea that Tommy was a friend, a co-worker, that kept Lovett stamping out his attraction to him; it was also that Tommy was a beta, and Lovett was an alpha, and that - just didn't work. It wasn't supposed to work.

He was quiet for too long because Tommy started talking again. "I mean, can we please forget this happened? I'm sorry your date didn't work out. Better luck next time and all that."

It was Lovett's turn to stop Tommy. Lightheaded at the idea that he was reading this right, that maybe Tommy wasn't just trying to make him feel better, that maybe Tommy wanted - like Lovett wanted - and together, they might - well, if Lovett ended up brokenhearted and friendless after this whole thing, it would be his own damn fault. 

"Here," Lovett said, dropping his voice down into a soothing timbre, the way he might talk to an omega, but in this case, it's _Tommy_, and he wants to see the worry lines on his forehead flatten and his breathing even out. "Tommy," he said, taking Tommy's hand in his own and interlacing their fingers. He pressed the back of Tommy's hand to his own cheek, down his jaw as he leaned into it. He thought about what he wanted, tonight, the nearness of someone else, a touch that wasn't necessarily sexual but more intimate than that. The ache he feels sometimes after sex with an attractive stranger with nothing but a door closing after. "Your hair is so nice. Can I touch it?"

Tommy's eyes fluttered closed. "Please."

Lovett steered Tommy over to the couch and touched his shoulder to sit him down. "That's it," he murmured. He felt high, having inhaled too much of Tommy's scent and now looking at Tommy like this, pliable and sweaty. He couldn't recall the last time he felt this way, maybe when they lived together in D.C., but Lovett never _touched_ him like this. He swallowed down over a lump in his throat, stomach twisting with that biological pull to touch and care for. Yes, he wanted to be cared for, wanted someone to spoon him for once, rub _his_ neck and shoulders, touch _him_ slowly and reverently. But right now, _right now_, his alpha impulses took over, and he needed to do this for Tommy.

He put one hand and then the other in Tommy's hair, carding through it, fingertips brushing Tommy's temples. 

Tommy leaned into his touch, straining forward and up. His sweat stuck to the pads of Lovett's fingers, almost burning him. His hair, though damp, was soft and warm. It didn't take very long before Tommy looked blissed out and content, Lovett's hand at the back of his head, the nape of his neck, dipping below the collar of his t-shirt. The energy between then surged, and every movement of Lovett's hands, no matter how slight, seemed to bring with it another wave of Tommy's scent crashing in around Lovett. Tommy shifted, and Lovett's palm grazed the side of his face. Lovett bit his lip to keep from growling.

"I'm -" Tommy turned his nose into Lovett's palm. "I'm so gross and sweaty right now, sorry. You don't -"

"I do," Lovett said in a breath, leaning down into Tommy's space. When he didn't flinch away, Lovett put his face right under Tommy's chin, in that wonderfully warm, salty space along his throat, against his Adam's apple. He breathed him in. "You smell perfect. I can't get enough of you. Your scent -"

Tommy groaned and tilted to give Lovett better access to his pulse point. Lovett opened his mouth, his teeth grazing Tommy's skin, then biting, harder, his tongue finally - finally - tasting that sweet, salty-smokey, musk that pebbled along Tommy's skin. He lapped it up.

"God, Lovett," Tommy whimpered.

"You have to tell me if I'm misreading this," he whispered, his tongue drawing a line along the underside of Tommy's jaw.

He shook his head. "You're not," Tommy said and reached for Lovett, fully, pulling him forward by the shoulder until he stumbled against Tommy, catching himself with a knee against the edge of the couch and his arm at the back. 

The inevitability of what was happening hadn't caught up yet, even as Lovett's brain worked overtime and his insides tangled up. There was a very real possibility that future-Lovett, back home in Los Angeles, would come to regret this moment, hating himself for letting it get this far. 

But that wasn't present-Lovett's concern, he thought, and he turned his head slightly, just enough to slide his lips against Tommy's.

The kiss wasn't quite a kiss; their lips passed over each other's but didn't linger. It was near enough, their noses, cheeks, brows touching. Tommy's hands pushed under Lovett's shirt, his fingers sweeping against the soft skin at Lovett's belly, his waist. Lovett breathed out, breathed Tommy in, content for a moment to just be, just feel, all of the places where they were touching. Then he arched forward to kiss Tommy for real, open-mouthed and filthy, his tongue sweeping in against Tommy's to sop up every new way he tasted.

Somehow, Tommy got himself under Lovett, his hands on Lovett's upper arms, his hips pressed in against Lovett's. Without breaking their series of kisses, without either of them giving up control, they managed to settle in comfortably rather than tumbling right off the edge of the couch. Would it be better to get them into the guest room, or into Tommy's bed, if they were really going to do this? Yes, but Lovett refused to disrupt the flow for even a moment.

Tommy pulled back and looked at Lovett. "Hey," he said, his fingers, his entire palm, still stroking along Lovett's side, under his shirt.

"Hey," Lovett said, sitting up on Tommy's thighs. His tugged at the drawstring of Tommy's gym shorts.

Tommy went pink beneath him. He stilled Lovett's hand, thumb pressed into his pulse point. "Some of us aren't built for hook-ups," he said. 

Lovett wasn't sure if Tommy was making a joke. He swallowed, tried not to move on top of Tommy because he could already feel Tommy, hard, under him. "I thought that was the whole point," he said, shooting for casual and falling short. "You can have it all. A hook up and a cuddle, even an alpha with a beta."

"I don't want to just hook up with you," Tommy said. "I know it's not - fuck, biologically sound or whatever and maybe it'll end up as a complete mistake but -"

"What do you want, then?" Lovett squeezed Tommy's thighs with his own, both of them groaning.

The thing was - _the thing was_ \- Lovett hated dynamics and biology and all of those fucking stereotypes and expectations that wanted to dictate how he lived his life. He was an alpha who has never met a compatible omega. He'd hooked up with omegas, with betas, hell even once with another alpha (and that was a real fucking disaster that he preferred never to think about). But they were all only that - only hook-ups. Because what kind of actual connection can an alpha make except with his omega? Or so Lovett's been told over and over again through his entire life.

He looked at Tommy, really looked at him. At the way he worried his lower lip between his teeth, at the vein along the side of his neck, at the thin sheen of sweat along his jaw and forehead. He breathed him in, deeply, and realized, like a sudden jolt of electric shock, that Tommy was the only beta he could smell like this, the only - besides the occasional omega in heat, of course - person Lovett ever wanted to tuck his nose against the underside of his jaw with.

"You could - touch my face," Tommy offered, looking away. "Or, you know, whatever."

Lovett leaned down to cage Tommy in, their hips slotting tightly against each other's. Tommy's breathing changed, his _scent_ changed. And Lovett _knew_. "What if I want to just put my nose - my mouth - right - here?" He did what he wanted, again, his entire body shuddering as he breathed Tommy in, as deeply as possible. He jawed at Tommy's damp skin, whining.

Tommy's face flexed above him, cheeks pulling into a smile, a genuine, happy smile that made Lovett tingly all over. "I'd - really, really like that, Lovett," he whispered. 

Between them, Lovett could feel just how very much Tommy liked that. He rocked his hips against Tommy's, rutted, really, but slowly, like he could do it for hours and never finish. Tommy fisted at the t-shirt at Lovett's back, arched up to meet Lovett's motions. His head went back and Lovett opened his mouth until his teeth sank tenderly into the side of Tommy's throat.

Tommy's fingers curled tightly against Lovett's waist. "Can I take you to a bed, with, you know, sheets or whatever?"

"Can you," Lovett snickered, face still pressed against the side of Tommy's neck, "sheets or whatever." 

Tommy moved, extracting himself from under Lovett as he got to his feet. He reached back, lacing his fingers with Lovett's as he pulled him up against him. Tommy dropped a lingering kiss down onto Lovett's forehead, and they stood there close to each other for a long moment before Tommy tugged him down the hall to his bedroom.

Lovett let Tommy take charge, immensely turned on by the confidence that switched on once Lovett said yes, once it was clear they were doing this. It wasn't some fluke or fever dream, no biologically-driven heat that was drawing them together. This was just Lovett and Tommy finally - finally! - acting on this thing between them that had been building up for years.

Tommy stopped a few steps into the bedroom to strip off his sweat-soaked shirt and shimmy out of his gym shorts. Lovett did the same, hurrying to get his jeans off. He almost tripped out of them, stumbling forward toward the bed before Tommy caught him with a strong forearm across his front. His bare chest stuck tightly against Lovett's back, and Tommy flexed his large palm against Lovett's stomach. "We don't have to go fast," Tommy said, his breath hot against the side of Lovett's neck.

"Yeah," Lovett said, breathing, arching back against Tommy.

Tommy nudged Lovett forward, walked them both to the bed. They fell onto it, Lovett grabbing at Tommy's hips, knocking in against him as he tried to climb over him. But Tommy pushed Lovett onto his back, slotted a strong thigh over his hip, and held him down. "Hey," Tommy panted, "hey, you don't - let me - you don't have to alpha me, Lo," he said. "Not right now, not with me."

Lovett actually growled at him, struggled a little, maybe performatively, maybe because his body couldn't help itself. "Tommy," he gasped.

Tommy's mouth hit the underside of Lovett's jaw, open and wet. "Just relax," he said against his skin. "Just relax and let me -"

"I can't," Lovett groaned. He really didn't think he could. Every nerve-ending in Lovett's body ignited, every synapse in his brain lit up, telling him to flip Tommy, assert dominance, bury himself inside of him. Take what he wanted - what he _needed_. It had never been like this for Lovett before, not even the handful of times he'd fucked an omega. He'd never felt such an urgent need for sex. "I just - need -" 

It wasn't easy to stamp out his biological, physical, impulses, even though mentally he really, really wanted to give up the control and give in to Tommy. That was all he wanted, all night, to cede control to someone else. Why now that he was under Tommy, skin on skin except for their TommyJohns, did his body scream at him otherwise? His brain said one thing, but his body fought against it, and Lovett had never been very good at impulse control. 

Tommy's hand pushed into his underwear and Lovett bucked up, gripping Tommy's shoulders tightly. "Fuck, Tommy -"

"Yeah? You like that? You want more?" Tommy's voice, deep and steady, was really doing it for him. His words got lost against Lovett's skin, Tommy's mouth and fingers following each other along his collarbone, down his sternum, brushing past his nipples, as Tommy continued to hold him down. It felt good, really good, and the thought of Tommy doing this with other people he's fucked flashed through Lovett's mind. He hated it, wiped clear the thought, forced himself to focus on Tommy now.

When Tommy's hand wrapped tightly around Lovett's dick and pulled, the noise Lovett made was in the same family as a howl. "What do you want, Lovett, tell me, tell me, come on."

He couldn't get enough of Tommy, wanted to wrap Tommy up and sink into him. He wanted to bite his neck, pull his hair - his fingers tangled up at the side of Tommy's head and he tugged until Tommy lifted up and looked at him. "Tommy, I -" He licked his lips and wrenched him up to kiss him, filthy, licking into his mouth, sucking on his tongue, drawing a whimper, another, a moan, out of Tommy. His hips moved in rhythm with Tommy's fist pumping him, urging him to go faster.

"Tell me what you want," Tommy said, bowing his head against Lovett's heaving stomach. His tongue darted out and licked a line from his belly button to the top of Lovett's boxer briefs. 

Lovett's grip on Tommy's hair tightened. "Fuck me," he grunted, "please - fuck me."

Tommy lifted his head, eyes wide, face red. "Have you done that before?"

Lovett knew Tommy didn't mean anything by it. It was a reasonable question to ask an alpha, because who was going to fuck an alpha besides maybe another alpha, and how often did that happen? But Lovett's brain was halfway to mush and suddenly Tommy's hands were pushing at his thighs, bending his knees until his feet were planted on the bed. His fingers pressed, squeezing, and opened his ass cheeks. "Lovett?" 

He groaned. "Yes - yes, shit, I've - done it before just - please."

"Okay, all right, I got you." Tommy kissed the inside of Lovett's thigh, near the crease of his hip, all while sliding a finger over Lovett's hole, petting, pressing. Lovett squirmed until Tommy laid his arm across his hips and pressed down tightly. He spit once, got his mouth right in alongside his finger, and Lovett was pretty sure he was going to come right then and there, his dick jumping against his stomach. 

Tommy worked him over, got the tip of his finger just inside, catching there. He lifted his head. "Lovett, shit, you're so - tight, can you - in the drawer -"

Lovett barely heard, hardly comprehended what Tommy was saying to him. He couldn't hear anything but the white noise between his ears and the pounding of his heartbeat. But when Tommy moved out from between his legs, he noticed that. "What -?" He sat up, reached out for Tommy, who came willingly in to kiss him roughly.

"Just getting lube," he said, pulling away despite Lovett growling at him. 

Lovett followed, moving right up behind Tommy, reaching out for him where he sat on the edge of the bed, digging around in the nightstand. He curled his fingers around Tommy's bicep, kneeling on the bed to pull Tommy flush against him. "Lube, Lovett. Be patient." Lovett laughed and sank his teeth, mostly gently, into Tommy's shoulder, the cord of muscle stretching down the side of his neck. "Fuck," Tommy stuttered, leaning into it. He held the small bottle of lube so tightly in his hand that the cap popped off. "Are you - is it always like this with you?"

Lovett didn't know how to answer him. Yes, once, when he was with an omega in heat. Yes, sometimes, when he's rutting. But no, no not always, hardly ever in fact, and never with a beta. 

Instead, in reply, he reached around Tommy to get his hand on his dick, palming the head, wrapping his hand around the thick, hard length of him. They both groaned, Tommy tipping back against Lovett, baring his neck so Lovett could attach his mouth to the salty-sweat of him. 

After only a minute of this, of Lovett's hand jacking him off fast and dry, Tommy gripped his wrist, squeezed. "If you want me to fuck you, you're gonna have to stop that," he got out, short of beath. "I'm not an alpha. I can't - go all night." His tone was at once both teasing and a threat, and Lovett's grip loosened.

"Yeah," he said, "okay." He manhandled Tommy, turned him around so they could kiss, letting himself be pulled nearly into Tommy's lap, half on, half off the bed. He slotted himself in close, getting one of Tommy's legs around his hip. They kissed for a while, deeply, Lovett trying to soak in every part of Tommy, all spicy-sweet, tasting like campfires and whiskey. 

Eventually, Lovett heard the sound of lube squirting, felt Tommy's fingers dip again between his ass cheeks. He lifted himself, hips up, moved more centered onto the bed, Tommy joining him, to give Tommy more room, a better angle. He opened him up quickly, one finger, two, a third up to the knuckles until Lovett couldn't sustain their kisses, was pushing back, fucking himself on Tommy's fingers. "Tommy," he gasped. "Tommy, Tommy."

"I got you, Lovett," he murmured, pulling his fingers out slowly and then, in a mess of limbs, got Lovett underneath him, on his back. 

Lovett scraped his fingers down Tommy's chest as he leaned over him. "Just do it already, Tommy, fuck -"

"Such an alpha," Tommy grunted, lining up and then, after a moment's hesitation, he pushed inside Lovett, gasping out once his hips hit firm up against Lovett's thighs. He was shaking.

Lovett cried out, curling his fingers at Tommy's sides, hard enough to leave marks. He arched up to kiss him, sloppily and loudly, before flopping back onto the bed. He groaned with every snap of Tommy's hips. "That's it, just like that, Tommy, just like that - god, why haven't we done this before?" Even though all Lovett could think about was the physical sensation of Tommy overwhelming him, he still rambled, had to get words out to keep from shouting, maybe Tommy's name, maybe a litany of cursing, maybe just nothing at all but wanton sounds. Tommy's dick inside him felt so incredible, his hands spanning Lovett's thighs, splitting him open. When he breathed in, it was all Tommy everywhere, and it made Lovett feel like this moment was going to be imprinted in his psyche for the rest of his life.

His orgasm snuck up on him, and he came with a shout, untouched, covering his stomach, up his chest. He punched his clenched fist against Tommy's stupid abs. 

"Fuck, Lovett, you - god, you came, that’s so - hot, so good." And then Tommy came too, slamming into Lovett, hips rocking as he held himself there until he was spent.

Lovett whited out for a moment, thinking that maybe he'd never had such a fucking intense orgasm in his entire life. He didn't even care to push Tommy off him when he collapsed onto his chest. He just opened his mouth against Tommy's collarbone and breathed him in. Just a few minutes, he thought, feeling loose-limbed and pliable, Tommy's weight heavy and oh so good on top of him.

Later, once they'd both calmed down, caught their breath again, once Lovett felt like he could focus, come back to earth again himself, Tommy moved Lovett to his stomach. Then he carefully perched on Lovett's lower back. "Lovett," Tommy said, his breath hot against the back of Lovett's neck. He started at the nape of his neck, digging the sides of his fingers into his skin, massaging gently, then with increasing pressure. Short and shallow and wildly satisfying. He left no inch of Lovett's back untouched, Lovett shuddering under his touch.

"Mmn," Lovett moaned, turning his cheek into the spare pillow. "Your hands. God, Tommy, your hands." He felt boneless beneath him, content and warm and well taken care of, Tommy’s scent consuming him. He was going to fall asleep under the slow sweep and press of Tommy's masterful hands. "I could stay like this forever."

He must have fallen asleep because when he opened his eyes again, he was the little spoon to Tommy's big spoon, Tommy's long limbs wrapped around him, their legs tangled together. Lovett was hot and sticky and he _didn't even care_. He turned his face, enough to press a kiss against Tommy's upper arm, then at his jaw, his chin. 

"Hi," Tommy murmured, nuzzling the back of Lovett's neck, placing wet kisses along his shoulder.

"Hi," Lovett echoed. He squeezed Tommy's arms where they were locked protectively around Lovett's middle. He drew a hand up to his cheek, licked Tommy's palm and then tipped his nose in, inhaling deeply. 

Tommy nudged his thigh in between Lovett's legs, pulled Lovett in even closer against him. "Are we going to talk about this?" he asked quietly.

Lovett tensed, then relaxed, his breath hot against Tommy's palm. "Yes, but not right now." He closed his eyes, focusing on the steady drum of Tommy's pulse against his face. 

Tommy's eyelashes tickled the back of his neck. "I'm holding you to that."


End file.
